Tokyo Rose
by WalkeroftheNight
Summary: She was petite, her head barely came to Yusuke's chest, and looked as if a strong breeze could knock her over. Yet Kagome Higurashi is no weakling. As the Shikon Miko she fought with and against demons as a young teen. But as the spirit detectives wade deeper into the task of protecting her, they will find that not all is how it seems. Yu Yu Hakusho x Inuyasha. Rating to change.


_**Tokyo Rose **is Inuyasha x Yu Yu Hakusho crossover.  
><em>

_It consists of all media - so manga / anime, books, and movies. _

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**_PLEASE NOTE the following pairings WILL NOT BE considered_**

**_Kagome x Inuyasha_**

**_Kagome x Sesshomaru_**

**_-.-_**

**_Playing it safe... Rated T - some minor sexual content, language, etc. If you want to continue, you've been warned. It will change later. _**

_On that note:_

_It's so hard to judge what's "right" now when you've got 13 year olds on the news [and on shows like Maury, etc.] wanting and/or having children of their own._

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**_For reference:_**

_thoughts / mental thoughts_

**_amplified thoughts_**

**_*_**_Mental communication / telepathy*****_

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><p>The young woman worked tirelessly around the base of the massive tree, her hair longer than most would think suitable for the summer heat. It reached well past her shoulders while the area ahead and behind the ears had grown out as well, coming to trail across her shoulders before reaching down to meet in a partial V-shape at her chest. Such a style of hair only served to draw one's attention to the healthy tan that had come to caress her features, a tan that laid claim of having worked many hours in the sun and never having quite suffered from such exposure and amplified the dark intensity of her eyes.<p>

The eyes themselves were so dark that at first glance they could be easily mistaken as brown. But if one was willing to look a little longer, keep eye contact a little more, they'd realize that Kagome's eyes were not the earthen hue, as they were a dark azure blue. Few though took that long glance. She had a piercing gaze and oftentimes washed as people took to nervous fidgeting, the unease trickling across the other being's features. Kagome knew why, she had learnt best on how to have a cutting gaze from the master himself. The Killing Perfection; Sesshomaru.

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><p><strong>KAGOME POV<strong>

Leaning back, fingers brushing through thick tangles of raven blue-black hair, Kagome Higurashi settled the shovel against her side. Before her the ancient Goshinboku tree rose above her its branches shadowing the background of current day Tokyo. She refused to close her eyes. She had done that for the first two years she had found herself back, finding that if she did close her eyes she could almost imagine herself back in feudal Japan. The well had stopped working when it had spat her into her own time.

Still the unrest that had settled upon her when she found the well no longer worked nearly two years ago. She might not ever see her friends, her allies but at least she was home.

Home.

It was something that she thought she would never see again only six years ago, when she had been first bound to the duty of finding and repairing the Shikon no Tama. The gemstone had broken in her ignorance as a young untrained, if powerful, miko woman. Then, as she had struggled through feudal Japan, home had become something of a burden and a release. A burden because she knew she more often than not would be called away sooner than she desired and had to deal with her family's concern, and a release because in modern times the worst thing she encountered was a thug wanting some money or a run away drunk driver.

For four years she had struggled to complete the Shikon no Tama had also been good to her. Gone was the child. What stood in her place was a woman that had grown into herself. No longer was this some foolish girl dragged high and low in search for the Shikon no Tama, a jewel that she had never wanted but by the twisted whims of Fate had being destined to carry and then forced to part with. In many aspects it seemed that there was nothing remaining of the little girl, who on her fifteenth birthday had being forced to fight against evils no person should face in their entire lives. She was mature now, if to some at her twenty three years of age she was barely an "adult".

And yet there was no denying that the native, even ignorant, young girl that had hounded after the heels of her companions in a desperate need to feel wanted or to appeal to them for her previous mistakes was gone. Gone was the young girl that had trailed after the hanyou, Inuyasha, with the disillusioned thoughts that he would come to understand that the love of his life wasn't quite the same as she was fifty years later. Gone was her misconceived belief that she had really been Kikyo's incarnation.

At the very most she was related to Kikyo and both of them descendants of the Shikon no Tama's own creator. But she had been no more Kikyo's descendant than an orange was an apple.

Breathe escaping through pursed lips, anger taking a momentary hold within her, Kagome's fingers strayed to the necklace around her neck. At the very end of the beaded necklace, so long that the marble sized stone was tucked between her breasts, sat the Shikon no Tama. So small. So seemingly significant at first glance now that its powers were sealed behind an elaborate barrier. But within the wrong hands it could do more damage than imaginable. Even a selfless wish was dangerous for nothing in this world was utterly selfless.

What she wouldn't give to chuck it down the 250 odd stairs that led from the roadway and into the depths of Sunset Shrine. It had cost her too much. Her friends would move on, forget her, and in time she would do the same. But the gemstone's cursed presence had damned her. When the gemstone once again stood in its completed form her task had been finished and she was no longer needed in feudal Japan. No warning had come when she had grasped the Shikon in her hand before blackness had enveloped her. When she had woken it had been at the bottom of the well, the stench of gasoline and car fumes filling her nostrils.

There had been no chance to speak with her love. If his senses had detected the child that had been growing within her womb he had said not a word; and she had so desperately wanted to inform him after the battle. She hadn't before on the chance it turned against their favor.

Kagome allowed the gemstone to drop back within its resting place between her breasts, her hand subconsciously straying to cover her flat stomach. To think just 18 months ago it had been swollen with new life. Tilting her head back, against the heat that prickled the corner of either eye, Kagome rested the shovel against the tree's huge trunk. Now more than ever in the presence of the huge cherry tree she wanted to turn around and go back inside. Forget that she hadn't stepped outside to any degree as she had once done before the well had been sealed behind her.

It seemed that fate couldn't be cruel enough for Kagome.

It had taken no more a month and a half since she had first arrived back in modern Japan, locked away from the feudal time, before Kagome had felt the first twinges of pain. What she had thought was nothing more than a backache had resulted in her waking up to the white wash of a hospital room's ceiling and a terrible ache in the area of her stomach. Her mother, whom had lost two other children to miscarriage, had been both understanding and greatly concerned when the hospital had finally released Kagome; the nurses muttering that she was young and would get over it.

How could she get over it? How when no one could give her a reasonable answer. Most blamed the stress that Kagome had been under and the idea that she had been responsible had nearly killed her. Her daughter had been her lingering connection to that time. Her last remaining tie with her mate. His mating mark had ceased to warm her skin within moments of her first step back in modern Japan. But slowly the agony of what had been stripped from her had given rise to fury. She had cursed and screamed and raged for almost six months after her release from the hospital. Cursing fate. Cursing the goddess that had had a hand in all this.

"Kagome." A shout tore through her wandering thoughts and she turned just as Souta appeared at the doorway of the shrine. "There's someone on the phone for you."

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><p>NOTE<p>

The name Tokyo Rose originates not from the daughter's name entirely. Look up Tokyo Rose and the Japanese women who sent covert messages to the Americans during WWII.


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